Suited (St. Martin Family Saga) (8 page)

11

C
ash set the
table with Isa’s unmatched dinnerware and the placemats she’d woven back in college. They were like her bracelets. She’d make them during the breaks from school because she hadn’t known what to do with herself since there was nothing due and no studying to be done. Cash had taught her how to play poker during one of those breaks. Strip poker that is. He wondered if she might play tonight. He rubbed the chip in his pocket. He felt lucky.

Isa put the muffulettas on plates, and Cash cut them in half. He pointed to Isa’s sandwich. “What kind of meat is that?”

“Baked chicken.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Baked chicken? On a muffuletta? That’s a crime, Isa. And you love salami and mortadella and ham. What’s with the chicken?”

“I’m just trying something different.”

He’d loved that Isa would chow down on a quarter pound burger with cheese. She’d even peel and eat crawfish. He’d never dated another woman who ate so much or was willing to try anything; crawfish was out of the question for any woman with sculpted nails.

Isa bit into her sandwich. Then chewed. And chewed some more.

“Ugh. You’re right, it’s a crime. An abomination. There’s no salty, greasy, fatty goodness, no bite from the cold cuts. Yuck.”

Cash watched her with an arched brow as the disgusted look played across her face. He moved half of his sandwich to her plate, and she aggressively took a bite.

“Mmm.” She chewed vigorously and with a mouthful of sandwich said, “Much better, thanks.”

He smiled at her.

After they ate every bit of Cash’s sandwich and picked at more bread, he put the movie on. He sat on Isa’s couch and patted his lap. They always watched movies in the same position, with Cash sitting and Isa stretched across his lap. He’d play with her hair during the entire film. This time was no different.

When the movie ended, Cash cupped Isa’s chin between his thumb and index finger and turned her head so that he could reach her lips. He chewed at her bottom lip before kissing it. Using his tongue he licked at the seam between her lips, willing her to open for him. Isa sucked his tongue into her mouth. He explored her slowly and thoroughly.

When he released her mouth, she said, “I have something for you.” She got up, crossed to the cabinet under the television, and returned with a wrapped gift.

Cash smiled from ear to ear. “I like surprises.”

“I know you do.”

She handed him a package wrapped in purple paper covered with gold tigers—Louisiana State wrapping paper. A big white bow flopped across the top. He thought it might be a book. He loved her surprises; with Isa, nothing had ever been boring. She’d intrigued him all those years ago when she’d been waiting on him and his brothers at the restaurant where she worked. He’d been flirting with her, trying to score her number. She’d told him he only thought he wanted her number but the truth was that he really didn’t. He hadn’t known what to say to that so he’d said, “Is that a challenge?” She’d replied, “It’s the God’s honest truth.”

Camp had the book unwrapped in seconds and the first thing he noticed was that it was a children’s book.
Me and My Daddy
. He looked up at Isa, shaking his head slightly. He didn’t get it. She was rubbing her belly and smiling down at him. When her message hit him, he went lightheaded.

“Isa? God, you’re…” He choked and cleared his throat. “Are you? Are you pregnant again?”

“Yes, Cash. I’m carrying our child.” She smiled at him. “I’m just over eight weeks.”

He pulled her down to him, and then he slid off the couch, sinking to his knees. She joined him and pulled his hand to her belly. He spread his fingers over her, imagining his son or daughter being nurtured inside.

“And everything’s good? You’re healthy? The baby’s healthy, growing like it should?” He didn’t know what to do first, what to ask first.

They were having a baby. And he’d get to be there this time. For all of it.

He looked up at a cry from Isa.

“Oh, God.” Her hands flew to her face.

Watching her face go from jubilant to abject horror frightened Cash more than he’d ever been frightened before. “What? Are you hurting?” He waved his hands over her back and chest and stomach.

She clutched his hands, stared into his eyes. “I didn’t even think, didn’t wonder… Oh God, Cash, what if…” She gagged and fought for breath. Crying, she shrieked, “What if this baby is stillborn too?”

Cash scooped her up into his arms and lowered her to the couch. He sat next to her and pulled her close, held her tight. He murmured assurances again and again, but he eventually realized that she’d passed from fear over the next child to mourning their dead child. Mourning Markos. Cash recalled what Camp had said. “
I stood by her side and bawled, but she never faltered
.” She was bawling now. And Cash wanted her to. She needed the release. She needed to begin healing. He’d hold her for however long she needed to grieve.

He lost track of the time as he held Isa. Her cries turned to sobs and then grew into shrieks. She wailed and moaned. Then she started to quiet. Now she was sighing softly against his chest. He’d held her so long he’d had time to think, to plan.

They’d been given so many second chances to do things right. This was another such opportunity. The past was in the past, and it was high time they thought about the future.
Their
future. The one for all three of them. They would treat this like any other pregnancy. They’d be diligent and follow the doctor’s advice, but Cash wouldn’t have Isa doubting herself. The time leading up to the baby’s birth would be one of joy and anticipation, not fear.

Cash carried her to bed and rocked her until she fell asleep against him.

12

A
t ten weeks,
Isa still claimed she wasn’t showing, but Cash swore he could tell when she was naked. And he liked seeing her naked a lot. Isa had told him she still didn’t want to get married, but Cash didn’t believe her anymore. They spent all their time together, and not only planning for the baby. They talked. They dreamed. They were sketching out a future.

And Cash thought it was brighter than even the Vegas Strip at midnight.

He had no intention of letting Isa get away, of them setting up separate households when the baby came. He had a few tricks up his sleeve, ways of convincing her that he loved her with a forever love. This weekend’s fun was just his latest scheme.

He’d been planning this weekend for a couple of weeks now. Bernard Larue was doing a concert at Xavier University in New Orleans; Cash had been third in line to buy tickets, and he had big plans. Plans that involved Mr. Larue.

Cash had purchased gold wedding bands and had Isa’s parents’ names—Markos and Dvina—inscribed in Croatian script on the inside of each ring. Their own names, Cashel and Isabela, were inscribed on the outside. The Croatian gold was spectacular—purer than American gold. Those were the only marks marring the perfect metal.

He’d contacted Bernard Larue, told him about the rings and told him their story. He was prepared to let Cash take the stage during tonight’s show.

He and Isa were on the road, heading to New Orleans.

“So you won’t tell me where we’re going?” Isa asked from beside him.

“Nope, that would ruin the surprise.”

“Well, I hope it’s not far. I don’t like wearing this thing.” She scratched at the bandana Cash had tied around her head.

Cash distracted her with corny jokes, and twenty minutes later he pulled into a parking lot. He parked and took the blindfold off, tenderly kissing both of Isa’s eyes and then kissing her lips. She kissed him back, but then she wiggled around to look out her window.

“Foreman Auditorium?”

Cash kissed her again. “You look beautiful.”

She smiled at Cash. “Well, you dressed me. So I guess you get the credit.”

He
had
dressed her. In fact, he’d been staying with her ever since that night she’d told him about their baby. He’d been dressing her every day too. At first she’d tried to bat his hands away, but she’d become used to it, even said she liked it.

They sat directly in front of the stage. When Bernard came out, Isa’s hand lifted to cover her mouth.

Cash leaned in and said, “Happy?”

Isa did what she’d been doing every day lately; she cried.

Cash had read that women could become emotional during pregnancy, but Isa had never been an emotional woman. In the past, he’d sometimes wished that she would cry. Well, he’d finally gotten his wish. He took her hands, kissing them and holding them in his. She leaned into him as they listened to their favorite Bernard Larue songs.

Halfway through the set, Bernard told the audience they were going to be witnesses to one of the sweetest acts they would see in their lifetime. Into the microphone he said, “Come on up here, my boy.”

Cash stood and walked a few feet to join him. He could hear Isa whispering at his retreating back. Bernard placed his arm around Cash.

“This is my good buddy Cashel St. Martin and that”—Bernard pointed at Isa in the front row of the small auditorium—“is the beautiful Isabela Petrovich. We’re gonna let Cash take the mic now for a moment so he can do his thing.”

Isa’s eyes burned into Cash. He knew she had no idea what was going on, but he could read the trust in her gaze. He stood in front of her with a soft spotlight on his face.

“Isa…” He took a deep breath that was picked up by the microphone. “I’ve loved you for eleven years. And I’ll love you for the rest of my life. When I met you all those years ago in the restaurant where you waited tables and you challenged me when I asked for your phone number, I knew that I had to know you. I wasn’t used to being turned down, and you intrigued me from day one. You had mischief in your eyes and that olive skin that shimmered under the light and God, I was lost in you.”

Cash stared at her while he collected his thoughts. “The first time we played poker and you beat me, I knew we were meant to be together. And yes, I mean the strip poker game. To say I was a little distracted is an understatement.” Cash grinned at her. “I’m looking forward to a rematch.

“Because of you, I’m whole again. I’d lived so long with the anger, with the hate, with the pain, and you came and changed it all. Just by being you. Just by loving me. You never gave up on me, even when I did. You waited for me, saved yourself for me. Because of you I have my family back.”

Cash cleared his throat and took a deep ragged breath. “Watching you jump hurdle after hurdle has amazed me. You never give up, even when the outcome seems impossibly bleak. Life has been hard, maybe even unkind, but you have never let that stop you. Where others cut and run, you stand strong and steadfast, a beacon in the storm. You are stronger by far than any man or woman I’ve ever known. I am dust in comparison.”

Cash stepped close to Isa and got down on one knee. Bernard held the mic in front of his mouth while he dug the rings from his pocket. “Isa, we both love jazz, late-night takeout, trashy comedies, and big juicy hamburgers. But that’s the little stuff. We also love each other. And that’s the big stuff. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to have the family you’ve always longed for. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to be a family, make a family for you and with you. I love you, Isa. I swear to you if you give me the chance, I will die sixty or seventy years from now, still making you happy. Isabela Petrovich, will you be my wife?”

Tears streamed down Isa’s face at a steady rhythm. Cash held the rings on his open palm. When they caught the light, Isa’s breath hitched—she recognized their significance immediately.

She whispered, “Croatian wedding bands.” She reached her hand out and rubbed them in her fingers. She picked up the ring that was to be hers and slid it on her ring finger. A sob escaped from her throat and echoed around the auditorium. She picked up the second ring, took Cash’s hand, and slid the ring onto his finger. Then she clasped their ring-laden hands together and leaned forward. She kissed him on the lips and said, “Cash, it would be an honor to be your wife.”

After the concert—a concert that Cash couldn’t remember—he drove them to the French Quarter boutique hotel where they always stayed when in New Orleans. He’d been humbled at Isa’s last words, and they’d both been speechless during the drive. No words were exchanged as Cash carried a trembling Isa to their room. He laid her on the bed and removed her clothes, his touch reverent. He savored her nakedness, committing every curve to memory. He undressed himself and joined her in the bed.

He rested his body between her welcoming legs. He kissed her abdomen and set his ring-clad hand, palm open, on her stomach. Isa’s hand joined his, the gold on her finger shining in the lamplight. Neither had wanted to remove the rings, so they’d left them on. Their hands connected, and then their fingers laced together. Cash kissed her ring finger. Then he kissed across her abdomen where their baby slept. He leaned to one side and bent Isa’s knee. Then he kissed the skin below her abdomen and the light scars she’d acquired eight years ago when she’d carried their son. He traced the scars with his index finger. His finger lightly trailed down to the skin at the crease in her leg before rubbing the seam of her pussy. He kissed her tenderly everywhere his fingers had been. When she started panting, he parted her flesh and bent to taste her. To drink from her.

As his tongue caressed her flesh, Cash slid the ring-clad hand at her abdomen down to the soft skin between her thighs, and his thumb sought her clit. He massaged her rhythmically as he continued tonguing her crease. Isa moaned, and Cash increased the intensity of his touch. When she was nearly there, he rose up on his knees, parted her wide, and slid his cock slow and deep into her wetness. He made love to his fiancée. To the mother of his child. To his future wife.

When they were both sated, he rested on his side and pulled Isa close. He kissed her, held her cheek in his palm, and said, “Our love cradles the child in your belly. Our little baby is going to be born beautiful and strong. Then his sister will come along and she’ll give him hell.”

Isa giggled softly and set intense eyes on Cash. “Cash, you’ve given back everything that was taken from me, replaced it with so much more. Thank you. For always, I am yours.”

Cash couldn’t speak, her words echoed his thoughts so closely. She’d given him back his life and his father. His entire world had been dark, and Isa had made it light. His life began the moment he’d met her. She had always been there, even during the darkest moments, shining her light. Showing him with her quiet confidence which path to take. He would stop running now. With Isa in his arms, he had everything he needed.